


The Fellowship of the Youth Group

by Perian_Swan



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:18:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perian_Swan/pseuds/Perian_Swan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haven't you always wondered what would happen if the Fellowship was suddenly plunked into a modern-day church youth group? Well, wonder no longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Reunion, and the Beginning of Much Mischief

In this story I have done a lot of shameless borrowing from other sources. Which I guess is okay, because that's kind of the essence of what fanfiction is. All of these little borrowings will be referenced at the end of the chapters they appear in. (Obviously, references to J.R.R. Tolkien's _The Lord of the Rings_ , and Peter Jackson's movie trilogy based on this book, will appear very, very often throughout.) Thank you so much for checking out my weird little story, and Happy Reading!

 

**Chapter One: A Reunion, and the Beginning of Much Mischief**

In August of the Great Year of Plenty (T. A. 3020, or 1420, if you prefer Shire Reckoning), the eight surviving members of the Fellowship decided that they rather missed each other after, for some of them, over a year of separation. So they decided to have a reunion at Isengard, as it was roughly equidistant from the homes of each, and as Aragorn was going there anyway to set things in order in the tower of Orthanc. Treebeard and the other Ents had done wonderful things with the grounds at Isengard, till they far surpassed even the loveliness of their earlier days when the wizard who had lived there cared about more than just the acquisition of power.

It was a happy reunion indeed. They spent their days traipsing about the gardens and orchards, and in the evenings they all gathered together, sometimes in Aragorn's pavilion and sometimes around a peacefully crackling fire under the stars of Elbereth. For hours they told jokes and stories, sang songs, and talked about their memories and plans for the future.

But where there are Tooks, there is bound to be mischief. At first it was the seemingly harmless suggestion of playing a game. Walking around the pretty trees was all good and well, but Pippin was beginning to get ever so slightly bored. But more than anything, he was curiouser than a monkey named George.* What other kinds of interesting non-palantír doo-dads had Saruman kept up in that tall, dark, and mysterious tower?

One evening after supper, Pippin said, "Say, I'm dying for a nice rollicking game of hide-and-seek. Any takers?"

Aragorn looked at him as if mock-questioning his sanity. " _Hide-and-seek_ , Master Took? All of us here are grown Men (and grown Hobbits), and we—" here Gimli cleared his throat indignantly—"and grown Dwarves, and I, in case anyone needs to be reminded, am the _King_ of Gondor. Hide-and-seek is child's play. Real Men (and Dwarves, and Hobbits) play _Sardines._ "

"Sardines?" questioned Frodo. "I have never heard of that game before."

"Sardines," said Legolas. "Named after a type of fish oft eaten from a metal can, and closely packed inside. It's called this because it is a sort of reverse hide-and-seek, involving one individual hiding and all the others seeking. When the hider is found by a seeker, the seeker hides with them, and as more and more seekers find the hider, the hiding place becomes more and more cramped, like sardines in a can," he finished.

"He's like a walking encyclopedia," Merry whispered to Sam.

"Well," said Gandalf as he puffed on his pipe, "I'm certainly up for giving this 'Sardines' game a try. Who shall hide first?"

"I will!" Pippin piped up before anyone else could.

They agreed to give him a good, generous amount of time to find a hiding spot, as the grounds of Isengard were extensive. He set off in the opposite direction from Orthanc, intending to put some distance between himself and the others and then circle back to the tower unseen.

It was a lovely evening. Despite his burning curiosity, Pippin couldn't help but slow down and enjoy its beauty. The air was only slightly chilly and had that sweet, subtle, indescribable fragrance of night. He could hear a loud chorus of frogs and crickets all around him, and the fireflies, little points of light dotting the blackness, twirled around as if putting on a show just for him. He could see the faint silhouettes of trees looming in the darkness, but he was familiar with them from the daytime, and they did not seem threatening, but rather like old friends. He looked up at the full moon, that silver vessel of Tilion gliding through the sky. He wondered what it must be like, the unending solitary journey among the stars. The sights were probably incredible, but he wondered if Tilion ever felt lonely. Pippin knew he would with such a life, but maybe the Maiar were different. He'd have to ask Gandalf….

When Pippin reached the bottom of the steps leading to the front entrance of Orthanc he looked steeply upwards and caught his breath. The lofty black tower had always looked imposing, but it was different standing right by its entrance at night. He couldn't see the top. A little quiver of instinctive fear squirmed in his stomach, but he told himself it was just excitement and began climbing the many tall steps up to the door. He'd have to hurry, or they'd find him before he had a chance to get inside, explore, and then find a good place to hide.

Pippin had had a lot of experience with walking long distances in the last few years and had grown strong and fit (as well as tall, but that was not owing to the exercise), but he was still winded by the time he reached the top. It was then that he realized he had neglected one key factor in his little plan: the door. Of course it was locked. Now what? After taking a minute to think, he stepped back and threw out his arms impressively (or tried to). " _MELLON_!" he bellowed.

The door was still as locked as ever. But Pippin was not going to give up so easily. He surveyed his surroundings as well as he could in the dark. He seemed to be on a flat platform flanked by very short walls on either side that acted as railings. He looked up again. Wait a second. Did he see something… _shiny_? He squinted over to the right at something a few feet above his head. Something that looked rather like a window.

A few failed tries and bruised body parts later, Pippin was standing on the top of the little wall and reaching for the windowsill. Luckily for him it was very broad, broad enough for him to pull himself up on top of it and kneel there while he pushed the window open. It swung freely on its hinges, with barely even a creak. It had almost been too easy, thought Pippin, as he slid inside.

 

* a quick reference to Margret and H.A. Rey's _Curious George_ books


	2. The Wizard's Wardrobe

**Chapter Two: The Wizard's Wardrobe**

"And that," said Gandalf, "was when the poor lad saw me and was so startled he dropped an entire plate of biscuits. I was the first Big Person he'd ever seen, and there I was in his kitchen! It was a wonder he hadn't heard me come in, really."

Gandalf was relating the tale of the first time he'd met Frodo, soon after the latter's adoption by Bilbo. Frodo was looking down and just slightly blushing, but he was also smiling. It had been terrifying at the time, for a hobbit-lad of only twenty-one years, to see an exceptionally tall, stern-looking old man with those piercing eyes underneath wild eyebrows. He'd known who it was, of course; Bilbo had told him all about Gandalf, but to see him so unexpectedly (but then again, did Gandalf ever _not_ appear unexpectedly?) had caught Frodo completely off-guard.

"Of course," Gandalf continued, "after that the only thing left to eat was—"

" _MELLON_!"

The entire group started.

"What was that?" Sam asked nervously.

"That sounded like Pip," said Merry.

"It sounded like he said ' _mellon_ '," said Legolas. "It's the Sindarin word for 'friend'."

"Why would he say that? Why would he say anything, he's supposed to be hiding!" Merry paused. "What if he's in some kind of danger and is asking for us, his friends, to come help him?"

Aragorn was beginning to think his Sardines idea had not been the most brilliant. But really, it seemed like all he'd ever done these last couple years was rescue hobbits, and he was getting a wee bit tired of it. Well, perhaps that was a _slight_ exaggeration, but couldn't they stay out of trouble by themselves? He scowled, then suddenly felt someone's eyes on him and looked up, meeting Legolas's piercing gaze.

"You're trying to give up caffeine again, aren't you?"

"How did you know?" After he had become King, Aragorn had begun to grow accustomed to a nice cup of black coffee in the morning, which grew to two, then three, then four. Soon he had an addiction on his hands, which he had periodically tried to shake, and then failed, tried to shake again, and so on. Why must coffee be so wonderful?

"Irritability is one if the hallmarks of caffeine withdrawal," Legolas answered, and then began to go into lengthy detail about other symptoms and the effects of caffeine on the mind.

Frodo drew Sting from its scabbard, and sighed in relief. "It's not blue, but I think we should still make sure Pippin's alright," he said to Gandalf.

"Yes, I think so too," said Gandalf, standing up. "Aragorn, Legolas! We're going to find Pippin. He sounded like he was rather near the tower, did he not, Legolas? Hmm…." Gandalf was beginning to think Sardines had been a bad idea too, but he handled it slightly better than Aragorn, perhaps because he'd never liked coffee.

The six of them headed in the direction of the tower as quickly and quietly as possible, which wasn't so easy as it might sound, considering a Dwarf was one of the party. It seemed to Merry that Gimli was going out of his way to step on every fallen branch he could find, and Merry's nerves were in such a frazzled state he was about to comment on it, but Aragorn beat him to it.

"A little quieter, if you please, Master Dwarf."

"Oh. Yes, sir."

A few moments later an especially loud snap was heard. "Sorry!" Gimli whispered loudly. "Confound these branches," he grumbled to himself. "I think they move around just as much as those creepy trees in Fangorn Forest."

A rustle and some harsh creaking noises were heard in the willows that surrounded them, despite the fact that for the moment the air was still.

"Sorry!" said Gimli.

Once they'd reached the back of the tower of Orthanc, they split into two groups and searched the surrounding areas in a slow half-circle until they met again at the front, but Pippin or any sign of Pippin was nowhere to be found. They were at a bit of a halt, as the King and the Wizard were each waiting for the other to make a decision about what to do next.

Suddenly Sam shouted, "The window! The window to the right of the door is open!"

"So it is," said Gandalf with surprise in his voice, at the same time Aragorn said, "Fool of a Took."

"I believe that is _my_ line," said Gandalf jokingly, "but since I hear you are embarking on a difficult Quest to give up coffee I shall let it slide, Fool of a Dúnadan. I once tried to give up pipeweed…."

"Can we _please_ hurry up?" said Merry, and his voice shook just a little. "Pippin could be in trouble!"

"He certainly will be if I find he sneaked into this tower on purpose!" snapped Aragorn. "Can you imagine the mischief he could get into?"

"All the more reason to _hurry_!"

"Very well; I have the key with me." Aragorn led the long way up the steps, and then unlocked the heavy black doors with an ornate-looking key he kept around his neck. The group filed inside, and he shut the doors behind them.

It was so shadowy inside that at first the only one who could see much of anything was Legolas, who made his graceful, Elven way toward the open window while the others blundered around in the dark (until Gandalf remembered his staff).

"Gandalf?" called Legolas quietly. "Could you bring the light over here, please? I think I found something."

Merry made it over quicker than Gandalf did, even though he nearly tripped a few times. He was afraid of what he might see, but he still had to see it.

_It_ was a small pile of crumbs. "That doesn't mean it was Pippin," said Legolas, "but, well…he _is_ a Hobbit."

"Are there any more?" asked Gandalf. "If we can find more we may be able to locate him."

By then, the non-Elven eyes had adjusted to the dark a little better, so the Company split up and searched the floor of the spacious foyer for more evidence. The foyer was a hall of sorts, with many doors on both sides and a staircase across from the main entrance. The possibilities for Pippin's whereabouts, if he was even in Orthanc in the first place, seemed practically infinite. But luck was with them, and Frodo found a few more crumbs by a door over on the left, near the stairs.

The group gathered by the door, hands on their weapons, as Aragorn opened it. The room was fairly light inside, owing to a large skylight in the middle of the ceiling. It was rather small and looked empty of any people, although it seemed to contain some interesting objects. There was an old desk by the left wall covered mostly in papers, but on it was also a thick book with an illustration of an immense, golden, cat-like creature on the cover. And, even more interesting, next to the book was a pair of golden rings, one set with a topaz and the other with an emerald.

But most interesting of all was the massive, towering wardrobe that dominated the wall opposite the door. It was made out of a strange, black wood none of them had ever seen before. A peculiar magnetism seemed to pull each of them except Gimli towards it, without them being aware that they were even moving their feet. Gimli was more interested in the rings, which looked to be of fine craftsmanship, although certainly not Dwarven. He was just about to reach out and touch one of them when—

"Gimli!" shouted Gandalf. "Do not touch those! We do not know what they might do." Gimli snapped his hand back as if the rings had turned into scorpions.

"Do you think he hid in the wardrobe?" asked Merry. "It's worth a look."

"Yes, but we _must_ be careful. I don't like the feel of this room," Gandalf cautioned.

Merry was the closest to the wardrobe, so before anyone could do anything, he stood on tiptoes and tugged one of the handles. It swung open with a creak that seemed almost earsplitting in the hushed room. There didn't appear to be anything inside the wardrobe except a few of Saruman's flowing, cream-colored robes on hangers, but Merry climbed in anyway, ducking behind the folds of cloth, to make sure Pippin wasn't there.

"He's been in there a long time," commented Sam after a minute. "Did you find him, Merry?" he called. There was no answer.

"Maybe he's in there and they're still playing the game, waiting for us to find them," said Frodo, stepping forward.

"No, Mr. Frodo, I'll check," said Sam, overprotective as ever. He stepped up inside the wardrobe and behind the robes, feeling his way around. "Merry? Pippin? Holy oliphaunt, but this wardrobe's big. You'd almost think it had no back…."

A moment later, Sam's head popped back out, his eyes huge. "The wardrobe has no back."

Gandalf's eyes grew wide for a second too. "What kind of magic is this?" he said to himself, moving closer to the wardrobe.

"We need to go in after them," said Aragorn. "Sam, Frodo, maybe you should stay here and—"

"No!" they protested in indignant unison.

"Alright then, we must make haste."

With those words, the Fellowship, now dwindled to only six, filed inside and shut the door. They ought to have known better.

 

Obviously (or at least, hopefully obviously; if it's not obvious, you may need to rethink your life) this chapter has been heavily influenced by C.S. Lewis's _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_.


	3. Monsters, Unrepeatable Conversations, and Soles

**Chapter Three: Monsters, Unrepeatable Conversations, and Soles**

The wardrobe seemed to turn into a dark tunnel, rather low in the ceiling, so that the Men and the Elf had to walk hunched over. Gandalf took the lead and used his staff to light the way. The tunnel didn't go on very long, and when it ended, the Company found themselves in a small alley under a setting sun, which was technically impossible, because the sun had been long set when they'd entered the wardrobe. And what was that noise? Something akin to music, but not in any way beautiful. Orc music, maybe? Frodo checked Sting, but it was still a solid silver, with no trace of blue.

For once, Legolas's expositional powers were completely lacking. Just like the others, he had no insight as to where they were, what was happening, or what to do next.

"Merry?" Aragorn called cautiously. He received no answer.

"I think what we must do," volunteered Gimli, "is to think like a Hobbit. What would a Hobbit do next? Sam, Frodo?"

"Well, Gimli," said Frodo with some indignance, "every Hobbit is different, and would, I am sure, react differently even in the same situation. We would do better to think of our friends specifically."

"Are you trying to give up caffeine as well, Mr. Baggins?" asked Legolas.

"No, actually I'm not fond of coffee. I much prefer tea, although I suppose that contains caffeine as well…." Frodo drifted off, then paused for a moment, and turned back to Gimli. "Please forgive me for my sharp tone, Gimli. I suppose I am afraid, and I took it out on you."

"Oh, that's quite alright, laddie, I understand," Gimli replied, sympathetically patting Frodo on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Gimli. You know, I—"

"Gentlemen," interrupted Aragorn, "I hate to break up such a lovely moment, but time is of the essence, and we _must_ find Merry. I propose we follow the noise—we all know it's what Pippin would have done, and so it is likely what Merry did in his search for Pippin."

As the group moved cautiously out of the alley, they could see before them a road of some sort, bisected in the middle by a strange broken line of yellow paint. Across the road was a row of wooden houses, all of them quite small except for the one on the end, over to their right at the corner of the street. It was large and painted white, with a small tower on top. Crowning the tower was a tall, vertical line crossed with a shorter horizontal line. This building seemed to be where the noise was coming from, but it was hardly noticeable to the Fellowship because of all the Monsters. They reminded Legolas of the oversized beetles of Mirkwood, but these didn't seem to have wings, just strange round legs. The Monsters were all completely still on the sides of the road. Perhaps they were asleep? Maybe they weren't even alive…? Somehow they didn't _look_ like living things….

Suddenly there was a distant rumbling sound to their left, much like thunder, only this sound kept growing, and did not fade. They scrambled back towards the alley again as one of the Monsters came careening at a breakneck pace down the road and into their view. It began to slow once it passed them, and stopped for a moment by the side of the road near the white building. Next it began an awkward attempt to maneuver itself into a position between two of the inert Monsters. It wasn't quite getting the hang of it. They watched, strangely fascinated, as it made a third attempt to fit into the space.

Eventually the Monster seemed to give up, and positioned itself with its back half in the space and its head sticking out into the road. Then something even stranger happened. The Monster thrust out two of its wings as two young people (certainly not Elves, thought Legolas) emerged from either side of it. One was male and the other was female, and both looked like they could be of the race of Men, as when they stood up they were obviously taller than a Dwarf.

"Ugh, I hate parallel parking!" grumbled the female. Her hair was a shockingly bright shade of purple and she was wearing a shirt and pants like a man would wear, although they were very different in style from any the Company had seen before. "And now we're late," she continued venomously. "If you'd let me park farther away like I _said_ , we might have been on time."

"Do you have to be so freaking stubborn?" responded the dark-haired male in exasperation.

"If I was stubborn I wouldn't have followed your stupid advice! You know I just got my license!"

"One would hardly believe you passed the test, the way you drive!"

"If you don't like my driving, you can find another ride home!"

"You know what, maybe I will! I'm sure _Cecilia_ would be more than happy to take me home, and she probably wouldn't listen to that idiotic Top 40 crap on the way there!"

"Oh, why don't _you,_ and _Cecilia,_ and your _moronic vinyls_ all go and—"

The author wishes to leave the further particulars of this exchange to the imagination of the reader. Suffice it to say that the two of them swapped several more colorful sentences and then suddenly locked lips and swapped saliva in such a way that a few members of the Fellowship colored and looked down. It was then that they noticed an elderly male shuffling by on the other side of the street. "Teenagers," he muttered.

"Frodo," whispered Sam, "I've a feeling we're not in Middle-earth anymore."*

Frodo shook his head wordlessly.

When the two young people had extricated themselves from each other, they crossed the street and entered the large white building from which came the strange noises, which could still be heard.

"Well, friends," said Aragorn, "shall we follow them?"

"Yes," said Frodo firmly. "For Merry and Pippin."

So the Company responsibly looked both ways (wouldn't you, if you thought the road was infested with huge Monsters?), and, weapons at the ready, crossed the street.

The closer they got to the building, the more the noises began to resemble music, and Legolas thought he could hear words, although they were difficult to distinguish, and when he could distinguish them, they made little sense to him. As they approached the little grassy yard, they could see a sign with boxy black letters, which said, "FOLLOW ME, AND I WILL MAKE YOU FISHERS OF MEN."**

"Fishers of men?" puzzled Sam. "What does that mean?"

Aragorn tried to remain calm as the meaning of the words dawned on him. _Fishers_ of men? These creatures, with their strange music and their Monsters for slaves, ate Men. And bragged about it! They must be powerful indeed if they did such things so openly.

"Fishers of men," repeated Legolas thoughtfully. "Depending on how one interprets the words, it could mean that this is a place of learning for those who wish to catch fish. But it would make more sense for such an institution to be located near a body of water, and we've not seen one yet."

Legolas could be right, Aragorn reasoned. He usually was. But if there _were_ cannibals in that building, the Company had all the more reason to go inside and rescue Merry, and potentially Pippin, as soon as possible.

Sam had meanwhile been listening to the music with interest, and he had noticed something most interesting. "I think there are Hobbits inside!" he said. "They're singing a song about soles!"

"What?" said Frodo.

"Soles! They're singing, 'It is well with my sole'!"***

"Sole?" said Legolas. "They are probably singing of fish, not feet."

"All this talk will get us nowhere," cut in Gandalf. "We can know nothing for certain until we go inside, which I suggest we do _before_ they feed our friends to the fish, or whatever silly theory you come up with next."

They passed the sign and went up the steps leading to the front double doors, which were cracked open. Gandalf cautiously pushed them further open and peered inside. "This room appears to be a small foyer," he whispered to them, "with two separate entrances to the main part of the building. No one is in here, which is very lucky for us, as it means we can spy on them before we decide what course to take next. Legolas, Aragorn, keep watch while the Hobbits and Gimli and I see what's happening inside. We should be quick, in case someone else comes here."

Gandalf and Gimli took the door directly across from the main entrance, while Frodo and Sam took the door on the right. The big room appeared to be a sort of theatre, filled with people seated on long benches. They were all facing a slightly raised platform at the back of the room, a sort of stage, on which there were a few strange-looking people playing even stranger-looking musical instruments, amidst a tangle of black vines on the floor. There was a young man with a droopy woolen cap and funny black circles framing his eyes and an ugly shirt with a pattern of alternating black and red squares. He was singing into a black pole, and his voice was much louder than the audience, which was singing along with him. He had some kind of musical contraption in his arms that was making an absolutely horrid wailing noise.

There were others up there with him. One girl with long, black hair was in the back, enclosed in a transparent cage, perhaps because she was violently whacking with sticks a bunch of round, box-like things. Off to the left, a boy with sandy hair that kept getting in his eyes was seated on a small bench before a table that he kept moving his fingers along, which seemed to produce tinkling sounds that, to the Company members who were listening, were the most musical of any of the instruments these bizarre people were playing. But still, it was not beautiful by any stretch of even Gimli's imagination. A few girls without instruments were singing quietly into another black pole that they all shared. And they were dressed so oddly, in tight blue pants and plain shirts left un-tucked, some with words printed on them like signs. _JUST DO IT_ , said one, and _VOTE FOR PEDRO,_ **** said another. _So imperious_ , thought Gandalf.

The four of them were so riveted by the scene on the stage that they momentarily forgot to look for Merry and Pippin. What were these people all here for? There weren't any fish. Was this just a concert? These people certainly didn't look very dangerous. Most of them seemed young and very scrawny, but maybe it was only the tight pants that made them look that way. They could still have powerful magic with them.

The leader of the song seemed to be getting really into the music. His singing began to sound more like shouting, and he stopped playing his instrument for a moment and started clapping his hands and jumping up and down. Most of the audience stood up and clapped too. It was then that Gandalf noticed with relief two figures that were very noticeably shorter than the rest, standing and clapping by themselves in one of the back rows. It seemed that no one else had noticed them, as no one was seated behind them. If Gandalf could just catch their attention somehow without catching the attention of anyone else, maybe they could all get back to safety and sanity in a world that made some sense! One of the Fellowship would have to go in there and quickly bring the two of them back, the one who would blend in best with these strange, young, beardless creatures, just in case. Legolas.

Despite his relief at the finding of Pippin and Merry, Legolas was not too happy about being compared to these unattractive people. But he was brave, and he agreed to do what he could to rescue his friends. It was unlikely anyone would notice him and the Hobbits anyway, and they'd all be back through the wardrobe and into safety before they knew it, Gandalf assured him in that movie-voice that assures everyone except the characters that whatever he's saying is most definitely not what is going to happen. (Case in point: "Trust me, he'll know what to do," spoken to Frodo of Saruman. Or, "It's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open!" spoken to Merry at the Door of Durin.) But Legolas, being a character in our story, was deaf to that, and since we as the readers cannot speak to him and warn him with our knowledge of foreshadowing, we shall just have to sit back, perhaps with some popcorn or a steaming cup of tea, and helplessly watch what happens next. We won't enjoy it at all.

 

* from the 1939 movie _The Wizard of Oz_

** from the Bible (Matthew 4:19, specifically)

*** from the hymn "It Is Well With My Soul" by Horatio Spafford

**** from Jared and Jerusha Hess's movie _Napoleon Dynamite_


	4. Introductions

**Chapter Four: Introductions**

Legolas crept along the aisle as lightly as only an Elf can while the audience and the people on the stage sang a song with peculiar metaphors involving honey and lamps and water and those ever-present soles.* Water and soles…. Must have been fish after all, Legolas mused. While he was looking into the distance and musing, he failed to notice that the benches had unique feet that stuck rather far out into the aisles and had a nasty habit of tripping people who were not used to them. Even very graceful people. Even Elves. It wasn't just a little, easily righted trip either, it was an ungraceful, remarkably loud fall on the face that had the ill fate of happening exactly as the song had finished and there was a near silence. Many pairs of adolescent, female eyes were suddenly turned in his direction.

Before you could say 'letter-opener' he was surrounded. The rest of the Fellowship rushed out to his aid, but halted when the girls drew no weapons but only extended their hands. Though Legolas was somewhat embarrassed, it would never do to show it. (He was blushing, although he didn't know it, having never had reason to blush before. Something about this place was strange indeed if it could have such an effect on him.) He accepted the hand of a full-figured girl who had freckles and circles over her eyes similar to those of the singer onstage, only her circles were red, matching her scarlet-painted lips. "Thank you, miss," he said, looking into her face and smiling politely. Her knees buckled a little as she and the other girls returned to their seats.

"DO WE HAVE SOME GUESTS HERE?" boomed the singer on the stage. "WHY DON'T WE ALL GIVE THEM A WARM WELCOME!"

The Company exchanged panicked glances as the audience turned to look at them and burst into applause. "This is your fault, you hooligans," whispered Gimli to Pippin and Merry, who had rushed over when they heard Legolas's fall.

"What do you mean?" hissed Pippin over the noise. "This is the most fun I've had in a long time!"

"This is _dangerous_ ," Aragorn responded. "We know nothing about these people."

"They seem harmless enough, if a little odd," volunteered Merry. "They have the most fascinating musical instruments…."

Here the applause ended, and the singer told them to PLEASE TAKE A SEAT ANYWHERE THEY WANTED FOR THE LAST SONG!

"If we leave now, I'm afraid it will draw too much attention to us," said Gandalf quietly. "As Merry has said, they don't seem dangerous. Perhaps we should stay and watch…."

Aragorn rolled his eyes. Gandalf had that glint in his eye that appeared whenever his curiosity about people was piqued. They would be staying. Well, if they all ended up roasted alive like Bilbo and the Dwarves almost did, it wasn't Aragorn's fault. Speaking of roasted, he wondered, was there any coffee in this place?

The Fellowship found a bench near the place they were standing, where only one girl was sitting on the far end. She glanced up in surprise as they all slid in and sat down, and then hastily lowered her eyes, as if not wanting to be caught staring at the bizarre visitors.

"ALRIGHT! YOU KNOW WHAT, WHY DON'T WE TAKE A MOMENT BEFORE OUR LAST SONG AND GREET ALL THE PEOPLE AROUND US!" yelled the enthusiastic singer.

Frodo looked about in confusion. One would think he'd have been used to introductions to unfamiliar cultures by now, but it still made him feel a little shy and ill at ease. The Elves he had at least been somewhat familiar with, but of the customs of these folk he knew nothing. As he watched, however, he noticed that the people were all smiling and taking each other's hands and moving them up and down. That seemed simple enough. He turned to the girl next to him, who was looking around uncertainly as if she didn't know what to do anymore than he did.

"Hello," Frodo said, smiling up at her (although he didn't have to look as far up as he had expected; she couldn't have been much more than a foot taller than he was). "I'm a bit new at this," he apologized, as he uncertainly extended his hand. She smiled hesitantly and took it. He noticed that she had hazel eyes, which were nicely framed by the fringe of blonde hair cut short above them. "My name is Frodo," he said.

"Prudence," she said in a small voice that he almost couldn't hear.

"Yes, that's good advice. Certainly some people of my acquaintance on occasion _lack_ that quality," he said with a sidelong glance at his companions, who were not paying attention to him.

"No," the girl corrected, turning a brilliant shade of red. "Prudence is my name."

"Oh!" said Frodo, and it was his turn to blush. "I'm sorry. It's nice to meet you, Prudence."

"You too," Prudence replied.

While these two were being introduced, some girls had formed a sort of queue in front of Legolas. One of these was our friend the Purple-Haired Girl, who was shooting exaggerated aren't-you-jealous glances toward her boyfriend as she attempted to give Legolas a side-hug, which the Elf smoothly maneuvered out of as he sent a look to Gandalf and Aragorn which plainly said "rescue me".

"Aw, your little friends are so cute!" said a girl with an Afro, gesturing to Merry and Pippin, who were scowling.

"I'll have you know that for a Hobbit, I'm exceptionally tall," Merry informed her.

"A what?"

"And I stabbed the Witch-King of Angmar."

"Huh?" said the girl, looking somewhat alarmed.

"Don't pretend you don't know who that is. He was around for a really long time!" he said in an offended tone.

"Merry," said Aragorn in a low voice, "we're not in Middle-earth right now."

"Oh. We're not? That sure explains a lot."

"Where are we now, then?" asked Pippin.

"ALRIGHT, GUYS! WELL, GIRLS, REALLY. LET'S GET BACK TO OUR SEATS SO WE CAN SPEND A LITTLE MORE TIME IN WORSHIP!"

"Really, a place of worship? Certainly not like any place of worship I ever saw…" mused Gandalf quietly.

The next song began, but Legolas was still too traumatized to pay much attention to it, or he would have been as thoroughly confused as Sam was by what he thought were lyrics about imagining going for a lovely walk with a person named Jesus.**

When the song was over, as if on cue, everyone bowed their heads and closed their eyes. After glancing at each other uncertainly, the Company, prompted by Aragorn, followed suit, just as the singer closed his eyes and began speaking.

"FATHER GOD, LORD, WE JUST PRAY, LORD, THAT YOU WOULD BE WITH OUR FELLOWSHIP TONIGHT, LORD JESUS, AND THAT YOU, LORD, WOULD HELP MR. DULANG TO JUST, LORD, TO JUST SAY TO US THE MESSAGE THAT YOU WOULD HAVE HIM SAY, FATHER GOD, AND THAT YOU, GOD, WOULD PREPARE OUR HEARTS, LORD, TO RECEIVE THIS MESSAGE FROM YOU, FATHER GOD, LORD JESUS, LORD. WE ALSO PRAY, GOD, THAT YOU WOULD PROTECT OUR FRIENDS COMING HOME FROM NEW ZEALAND, LORD. IN JESUS' NAME WE PRAY, AND WE ALL SAY—"

"Amen!" replied the audience, as they raised their heads.

"NOW WHY DON'T WE ALL RETIRE TO THE YOUTH ROOM FOR A NICE, COZY BIBLE STUDY, Y'ALL?"

People began standing up and moving towards the left side of the stage. They seemed to be making for a door in the wall there. "Well, what are we waiting for?" asked Gimli, whose sense of adventure was now waxing strong. A few members of the Fellowship sighed, but they all rose and followed the group through the door and to the left, down a tiny, sharply downward-slanting hallway that led to a large, empty room with a wooden floor. One more left turn across the room led them to a small door, the entrance to the youth room.

"Why couldn't we have just turned right?" muttered Pippin.

"Two lefts don't make a right," Merry informed him. "But three do."

"You know I don't know anything about chemistry."

"Sometimes it's embarrassing to talk to you."

" _Paravillan tinniay_ ," Pippin retorted in clipped tones.

"What?"

"It's Elvish for, 'Not a nice way to talk to all your friends.'"

"There is no way that is Elvish."

"Pippin!" reprimanded Legolas, coming up behind them with a mischievous grin. " _Péra vilen tinië_? I'm shocked at you!"

"Wait, what did I say? Did I say something bad?" asked Pippin in dismay.

Legolas just clicked his tongue and shook his head disapprovingly as he glided past them to catch up to Gimli.

 

* reference to the song "Holy and Anointed One" by Josh Barnett

** reference to the song "I Can Only Imagine" by MercyMe

Merry and Pippin's little conversation at the end is mostly comprised of song titles and lyrics from Relient K's album _Two Lefts Don't Make a Right…But Three Do._


	5. Lady Katy

**Chapter Five: Lady Katy**

The youth room was long and rectangular, and lined with an eclectic collection of worn, comfortable-looking chairs and couches, on which people were taking their seats. In the corner was a big glass bowl full of water, with a small but very rotund-looking orange fish. Due to their hesitation in following the crowd over, the Fellowship was unable to find nine adjacent vacant seats, so they had to split up. It caused them some uneasiness, but they'd done it before in direr circumstances, and they could do it now.

Legolas's strategy was to find the place where the most young men were clustered (the seating was somewhat segregated in that way) and sit near them, so as to avoid being drooled on. Unfortunately, he sat on a sofa, rather than on a chair, which Purple Hair Girl immediately noticed and took advantage of, squeezing herself between him and the sofa's edge.

Gandalf, Aragorn, and Sam sat on either side of a young man with short, blond hair and especially prominent black circles framing his eyes. He was wearing a black coat, pants, and bowtie with a gold waistcoat and white gloves. His outfit seemed not to follow quite the same rules of fashion as the others, but Sam thought he looked quite distinguished.

Merry, Pippin, Gimli, and Frodo all sat near the fish and Prudence, who seemed to have a habit of sitting alone (Prudence, not the fish; it was a very fat fish, and didn't look capable of sitting, even if it had had legs).

It seemed to take a while for the study to get called to order. People were talking all at once, loudly and eagerly trying to be heard above each other. Gimli, who was feeling a little bored, nonchalantly took out his pipe, lit it, and began smoking. Many, many eyes bugged out and voices quieted at the sight of this, but no one wanted to approach the Dwarf, who was intimidating to them despite his height.

Before things could get too awkward, someone a few seats down from Gimli began a somewhat exaggerated coughing fit. Gimli looked over at the young man in the black coat next to Gandalf, who was already glaring at Gimli through the thick glass in his eye-circles. "I apologize for the in-con-ven-i-ence," he said in an odd, mincing voice, "but _some_ of us do not care for the smell of cancer." He took a slightly wilted pink flower out of his pocket and held it to his nose.* Aragorn, on the other side of the complainer, was giving Gimli some very pointed looks, which Gimli was trying to ignore; he didn't like when people got in the way of his evening smoke. Before anyone had time to react, Merry snatched the pipe from Gimli's hand and dunked it in the fishbowl.

After several gasps, the room became dead silent for some seconds. And then three things happened at once. The first: Gimli rose in a flash of fiery Dwarven anger, plucked the pipe out of the water, and began hitting Merry over the head with it, asking him what the [Dwarvish curse word] he'd been thinking.

Second, a sizable group of people made a beeline to the fishbowl and began making a fuss over the fish: "Oh no, look at LKP! She looks really bloated. I think the smoke poisoned her!"

"Don't be stupid. If Lady Katy is fat, it's because she ate part of her husband the other day. That's why they had to move him to the third and fourth grade classroom."

"Do platies even do that?"

And third, Mr. DuLang, the youth pastor, came into the room. He was the only one among this motley lot that even Legolas would have conceded could have passed for an Elf (if his hair had been longer and his ears pointier, that is).

Mr. DuLang paused in the doorway and almost looked like he wanted to go back out again and possibly never come back, but it was too late. He'd been seen. So he squared his manly shoulders and strode into the room. "Would anyone like to tell me what is going on here?" he asked in the voice of someone who has had to ask that question one too many times.

The room quieted again, with amazing promptness. Gimli stopped hitting Merry and pushed him roughly away, telling him to "get out of my sight."

The girls were still by the fishbowl, and they poured out to Mr. DuLang the story of Lady Katy the Platy's "poisoning".

"Just so we are clear," said Mr. DuLang as his gaze swept around the room, "there is to be no smoking in this building, and certainly no insertion of any non-water or non-fish-food substances into any of the fishbowls. You, with the blonde hair," he said, addressing Prudence, who, because she was the quietest one there, was perceived as the most responsible, "would you mind taking a friend with you to the kitchen and replacing the water in the fishbowl, please?"

Prudence nodded, but, inexplicably, there was panic in her eyes. She looked around uncertainly, as if either unsure of who to ask, or afraid to ask them. Did she not have any friends?

"I'll go with her," said Frodo, standing up. "If that's alright," he amended, looking at Prudence.

"Yes, thank you," she said with gratitude, although she still looked nervous. She rose and carefully picked up the fishbowl (which _was_ looking a little cloudy, but that might not have had as much to do with Gimli's pipe as with…well, something else). She led the way to the kitchen, which was right across the big room they'd come through to get to the youth room. The kitchen was small, with a table in the center and a counter near the door. Above the counter was an open space in the wall through which the larger room could be viewed, or through which poorly aimed rubber balls could come careening when people took it into their heads to play dodge-ball.

Prudence set the fishbowl on the table and then felt her mind go blank. She'd never been able to function well under pressure. Maybe this wasn't what anyone else would call "pressure", but to her it was excruciating to be alone with a stranger, especially one with such beautiful, kind blue eyes and perfectly tousled hair (except he was rather short and dressed in very weird clothes).

"Well," he said, "where I come from, people don't keep fish as pets, so you might have to instruct me as to how this all works."

_Okay_ , thought Prudence, having only registered the first part of Frodo's sentence, _small talk. I know how to do this. It's not that hard. In theory at least…._

"Where are you from?" she asked, trying to make eye contact, although it was a little like looking at the sun.

"I'm from a place called the Shire, in Middle-earth," he answered.

Shire. Middle-earth. Both of those rang a faint bell to Prudence.

"In England?" she asked hesitantly.

"Arda, actually."

"Oh." She'd have to Google that later.

"If you don't mind my asking, what is this place called? My companions and I are rather lost, and although I think we know our way back again, we're not at all sure where we are."

Prudence told Frodo the name of the town they were in, but she could tell it was unfamiliar to him.

"Ah. What…country?" he asked.

She looked at him a little strangely. "This is the United States. Of America," she added, just in case he thought they were in the United Arab Emirates, or something. He didn't seem to be very strong in Chemistry. Geography! Geography was what she meant. Oh crap, her face was getting warm again.

"I guess the world is bigger than I thought," said Frodo thoughtfully.

"Yeah," said Prudence unsure of what else to say. She lived in perpetual fear of awkward silences, and she could feel one coming on right now. _Think, Josephine, think!_ (Josephine was the name Prudence used for herself in her head, since she was, understandably, not hugely fond of the name her parents had given her.)

"Are you traveling?" she asked.

"I guess you could say that. But we never intended to come so far from home as we apparently have. It's certainly been an adventure. I might add it into the book I'm writing."

Prudence's eyes lit up. "You write books?"

"This is only my first, and likely the only one I'll ever write." There was an undertone of sadness in his voice that Prudence instantly picked up on.

"What's it about?" she asked softly, and then added, "You don't have to tell me if you'd rather not."

"I suppose it's a memoir. Although I think, to get a more complete story, I'll need to interview my friends and put in their experiences as well. Have you heard of the War of the Ring?"

"I don't think so…." But then, Prudence knew that her knowledge of World History was pretty sketchy; stories about governments and huge masses of people never captured her interest the way intimate stories with only a few characters in them did.

"Ah. Well, it's about my and my friends' experiences during that war."

Prudence just looked at Frodo in wordless shock. No wonder he had looked sad. They were both silent for a few seconds longer, until Prudence asked, "Are you okay?"

"Sometimes. Other times I'm not," he said, absentmindedly fingering an elegant, star-shaped pendant dangling from his neck. Suddenly he started, as if just realizing that he was confiding in a near stranger. "Please forgive me," he said. "I don't mean to burden you with all this. I'm alright now. Did you know, you're very easy to talk to?"

Prudence looked down and colored (again). It was a compliment she felt she couldn't accept. He was only being polite.

Frodo continued, "I think I've talked about myself quite enough. Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"I always hate when people ask me that," she said, surprising herself by her own frankness. "I never know what they mean by it."

Frodo smiled. "I'm sorry. Should I be more specific?" When Prudence answered him with a nod, he went on. "What sort of family do you come from?"

"I have two parents and an older brother."

"Do you get on well with them?"

"Yeah, I do. Better than I get along with most people, except for my best friend. She usually comes tonight, but she's sick."

"Oh, that's too bad," said Frodo sympathetically. "What disease does she have?"

"Oh no, she doesn't have a disease. Just the flu."

"Flew?"

"Mm-hm."

"I've never heard of that before…. Is she…is she a dragon?"

"What?"

"Is your friend a dragon?"

He seemed so serious. Prudence couldn't help but let a small laugh escape. She covered her mouth, but she knew Frodo had noticed. "I'm sorry—" she began, but Frodo interrupted:

"There are no dragons in the Untitled States of Erica, are there?"

"I don't believe so," said Prudence, trying desperately to keep her composure.

"Are you laughing at me, Prudence?" said Frodo with a teasing smile.

"No," she squeaked. But resistance was futile, and she dissolved into paroxysms of giggles. She had the thought that she must be going insane. This was wildly out of character for her, laughing like this, at and in the presence of someone she had just met. But the thought only made her laugh more. At least Frodo evidently found the situation humorous as well.

Suddenly they were aware of the sound of a door opening and closing, and hastily collected themselves. Prudence sneaked a quick glance at Frodo and immediately regretted it when she caught his eye and they both almost started laughing again.

 

* This guy is a character from the amazingly funny TV show and YouTube channel, _Studio C_.


	6. He's So Fine

**Chapter Six: He's So Fine**

"There you are, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, casting a suspicious glance at the blonde girl who was with him. "Just checking to make sure you haven't been kidnaped. Or eaten by a dragon, or anything. Never can be too careful."

Completely inexplicably, Sam saw the two of them take one look at each other and actually start _laughing._ "Have you finished with the fishbowl yet?" he asked impatiently.

He saw the two of them lock eyes again. "Oops," said the blonde. "We forgot." She whirled toward the counter and took out of one of its drawers a tiny green net with a long handle. Next she went to one of the cupboards and took out a small bowl. Using the net, she plunked the fish inside. Lady Katy wasn't exactly thrilled with the arrangement, considering the fact that Prudence had forgotten to fill the bowl with water.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!" she said to the fish as she scrambled over to the sink. Both Sam and Frodo were looking on and finding this rather amusing, though they tried to hide their smiles. Sam had decided that a girl this scatterbrained probably posed no threat to his friend, unless she was putting on some kind of act to appear as harmless as possible. If she was an actress, she was a good one. Her cheeks were a bright, embarrassed red and everything.

"Can we be of service to you, Prudence?" asked Frodo.

"Yes," she answered archly, "instead of laughing at me, you _can_ be of service. Would you mind dumping all the contents of that fishbowl in the trashcan over there, please? Well, everything except Lady Katy's little throne."

"Yes, ma'am," said Frodo obediently. He was still smiling.

 

"Alright, youths, settle down. Lady Katy will be fine," said Mr. DuLang. "Now. I thought we would begin our study with some sword drills pertaining to the message. First, we'll do Second Corin—"

_Shing!_

All eyes turned towards Aragorn, who had quite majestically risen and drawn Andúril, the Flame of the West. Unfortunately, Aragorn's majesty was apparently lost on everyone but Aragorn. Everyone else just gasped or screamed.

With an equally puzzled and horrified expression, Aragorn put the Flame of the West back in its scabbard. "Please, forgive me. I thought I heard you say we were going to practice our swordsmanship skills."

" _Sword_ drills," said Mr. DuLang. "With the Sword of the Spirit."

"Yes. I understand," said Aragorn, who clearly didn't understand.

" _This_ ," said Mr. DuLang, holding up a black book with the words _HOLY BIBLE_ printed on it in gold letters.

"That is a book, sir."

Mr. DuLang sighed, and not for the last time.* "I shall rephrase it. We are going to do some _Bible_ drills."

Aragorn sank back down on the couch, confusion still evident on his face. Gimli, Legolas, Gandalf, and the Hobbits were no less confused. But as they watched, the meaning of the activity became clearer to them. Mr. DuLang would read out an unfamiliar name followed by a few numbers, and the people would riffle through the pages of their books like mad until one of them evidently found what they were looking for, stood up, read it to the group, and received a bunch of dirty looks. Gandalf had been paying attention to the words that were being read, and thought he could discern a common idea or two running through it. Something about not being friends with people too dissimilar to oneself. And…egg yolks? Hmm….

Pippin, meanwhile, was observing a written conversation that was happening between several note-passing girls seated next to him:

_ugh havent we heard this message from him on this theme at least three times already this summer_

_Mr. DuLang just wants us to be wise about who we spend our time with._

_wouldnt want to have unequal yolks or whatever_

_LOL. In all honesty, I wouldn't mind being unequally yoked with that man. OMGsh, he's so fine._

_dulang?_

_DuLang._

_dulang?!_

_That handsome man over there. The one with the wavy hair…?**_

_hes our freaking youth pastor_

_I know, but he's sooo hot!_

_CARMEN'S RIGHT, HE'S A TOTAL BABE._

_See?_

_THE ONLY REASON I EVEN COME HERE IS SO I CAN STARE AT HIM WHILE HE PREACHES AT US FOR NINETY MINUTES._

_you two are crazy, this guy is so full of himself im surprised he can fit his head through the door_

_WHATEVER. HIS HAIR IS LIKE A WORK OF ART._

_IKR? And that voice? It's like honey mixed with molasses dipped in dark chocolate and topped with whipped cream._

_OHH, THAT SOUNDS LIKE SOMETHING RIGHT OUT OF SONG OF SOLOMON!_

_please neither of you ever write poetry_

_HOLY CANNELLINNI, CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT HIS SINGING VOICE PROBABLY SOUNDS LIKE?_

_I actually had a dream a couple weeks ago that I was riding on a giant flying sloth over the Grand Canyon, and he was standing balanced on the sloth's head, and serenading me with One Direction's "Drag Me Down," and when he got to the part at the end with the runs, it was so beautiful that I fainted and fell off the sloth and into the arms of a guy with a really bushy beard who kept stabbing me in the face with a cross-stich needle to get me to wake up. And when I did, I found the two of them fighting over me, until Mr. DuLang pushed the bearded guy over into the Grand Canyon, who fell with a smile on his face because at least he'd been able to hear Mr. DuLang sing Harry's runs in "Drag Me Down" even better than Harry sang them, and there would be nothing to live for after such a mountaintop experience as that anyway, other than winning my heart, which of course he had no chance of doing, considering that Mr. DuLang himself was the competition. So then Mr. DuLang picked up the cross-stitch needle that the bearded man had dropped, walked over to me, got down on one knee, and said, "I give you this magnetic toothpick as a token of my undying love for you," and began singing "Truly, Madly, Deeply". It was the best freaking dream of my life._

_I…I HAVE NO WORDS._

_i can think of a few, how about_

"Clearly you young ladies did not realize I was serious last week when I said that the next time anyone was caught passing notes, they would have to hand said notes over to me to be read aloud. If you're having an interesting discussion about this week's topic, we would love to hear your thoughts." There was an almost malicious glint in Mr. Dulang's eye as he held out his hand for the piece of paper that Carmen and her friends had been scrawling on.

It was quite entertaining to watch Mr. DuLang's face change color as he read. Although much of the meaning of the girls' note had been lost on Pippin, he picked out enough to know that the content, if read aloud, would be monumentally embarrassing to both reader and writers. Pippin thought the man would realize that his method for discipline had backfired horribly and stop reading, but it became apparent that Mr. DuLang was not one to back down, and that no matter how it made him feel, he would continue manfully till the bitter end.

The same could not be said for poor Carmen, who suddenly felt the air in the room to be stifling and had to get some fresh air immediately. Her need for fresh air was in fact so intense, that she was unable to reenter the building that evening.

Mr. DuLang, the picture of composure except for the rosiness in his cheeks, laid down the piece of paper. "Let us pray." Heads bowed. "O Most High God, Alpha and Omega, King of Kings, and Prince of Peace: hallowed be Thy names, here on Earth, Thy footstool, and in Heaven, Thy home. We thank Thee in all circumstances, for Thou knowest what is best for Thy children. We offer thanks unto Thee for the precipitation and the light from the sun that Thou sendeth, that alloweth the beauteous flowers, plants, and trees that Thou hast created, _ex nihilo,_ to bloom and offer us their beauty and sustenance. We thanketh Thee for the birds of the air and the beasts of the field which Thou hast also made. As Thou toldest Peter, also known as Simon, also known as Cephas, in the book of Acts, chapter ten, the ninth through the sixteenth verses, that he shouldst kill and eat them, so shall we do, with thanksgiving to the One who hath provided them to us and hath given us dominion over them. We confesseth that though we are Your children, the apple hast falleneth ever so far from the tree, both metaphorically and in the Garden of Eden. We asketh for Your forgiveness and Your help in being better stewards of the grace and mercy that Thou hast freely bestowed upon us, undeserving worms that we areth, wallowing in the dirt of our sins. We humbly ask that Thou wouldst give Thy most excellent help to us as we make decisions about the fellow beings to include in the lives that Thou hast graciously bestowed upon us. We ask also for the safety of our companions, as they journey home. In Thy most precious and holy name do we pray. Amen."

It was funny, Pippin hadn't noticed that Mr. DuLang had a lisp before.

The author does not wish to put the reader through what the Fellowship had to endure at this juncture. Sam was quite fortunate that he had left the room to check on Frodo during the sword drills. Yes, there were some real gems of excellent advice in Mr. DuLang's sermon, it was true. But the whole thing was a bit like Lucky Charms cereal: not quite good enough, as a whole, to justify the amount of boring cereal one had to deal with in order to get to the marshmallows, unless of course one only consumed the good stuff and ignored the rest, which unfortunately is not easy to do when it comes to listening to sermons.

The Fellowship was probably more interested in listening than the youth group kids were, the former having not heard a message on this particular topic three times in the same season. As with nearly everything that was said in this place, they did not quite understand all the words or the meanings of those words in the ways they were used, but it made for an interesting game to try to figure it out.

It was also interesting to watch the people. Many of them had what looked like some type of small glowing magical device on which they could read and write words by pushing little buttons. Partway through the message, Mr. DuLang stopped and passed around a box for everyone to put their "cell phones" in so they would not be distracted.

It was shortly after this that Prudence, Frodo, and Sam came back with a somewhat smaller LKP. Yes, indeed, Lady Katy was the proud mother of a fine little brood of baby platies, who were already beginning to test out their fins and explore their new home in the fishbowl. When this was announced, Mr. DuLang, instead of being full of wonder at the miracle of life, was clearly annoyed at yet another interruption of his fine message, especially since everyone felt the need to get up out of their seats and crowd around the fishbowl to have a look.

"We can't keep the fry in there with her," one of the girls piped up over the chorus of awws. "Platies sometimes eat their young."

Mr. DuLang sighed in exasperation. "Now is _not_ the time—"

"Are you saying you'd rather these poor, innocent creatures die just because you can't bear a slight interruption in your sermon, Mr. DuLang?"

"Prudence and I would be happy to take care of it," volunteered Frodo, glancing quickly over at Prudence, who looked a little surprised, but nodded. "We've grown rather attached. To the fish, I mean."

"Fine, fine, just go," said Mr. DuLang, waving them out the door. "Everyone, _sit down._ We're almost done here, I just have a few closing statements…."

 

* a little _The Hobbit_ reference for you

** this, and the title of the chapter, are a reference to the song "He's So Fine" by The Chiffons


	7. Unexpected (and in a Few Cases, Unwanted) Friendships

**Chapter Seven: Unexpected (and in a Few Cases, Unwanted) Friendships**

Poor Mr. DuLang. Not two minutes later, he was interrupted again. Apparently there were paper, plastic, and porcelain plates, and plastic and stainless steel forks aplenty in the kitchen, but no clean bowls or cups of any kind. And no dish soap. What kind of a kitchen was that? The poor defenseless fry were as in danger of being eaten as ever, all because the church had had some kind of massive soup potluck the day before. What were they to do?

It seemed that everyone had the same idea at once, as they all, with one accord, turned to look at Gimli, who began to fidget and look very uncomfortable.

"It's fair, I think," said Merry. "He's the one who nearly destroyed the first fishbowl; he should make amends with an act of service."

Gimli growled. "If I remember rightly, it was not _I_ who deposited my pipe into the fishbowl, you impertinent little pipsqueak."

"It would not have happened if you had kept your pipe where it belongs," pointed out Legolas matter-of-factly. (His expositional powers were beginning to come back.)

Gimli gave Legolas a dirty look before sighing heavily, rising from his chair, and crossing the room with leaden steps. He slowly removed his helmet and handed it to Frodo. "Take care of it."

Frodo gave him an understanding look and nodded.

Back in the kitchen, Prudence watched the baby fish with fascination while Frodo filled Gimli's helmet with water from the faucet he'd just learned how to use.

"Oh my goodness," Prudence breathed. "She's having more."

Frodo set the helmet down on the counter and came to stand next to Prudence. "So she is. You'll all have quite a piece of work before you when it comes time to name each of them…."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they watched. Frodo was thinking that this was the most at peace he'd felt in months, sitting with a strange young woman in a kitchen in goodness-knew-where, watching a tiny fish in a glass bowl give birth. It didn't really make sense, but somehow that was alright.

Back in the youth room, the atmosphere was less peaceful. Mr. DuLang had finally finished his message, and now prayer time had begun.

"I have an _unspoken_ ," said one girl in an ominous half-whisper. The kids nodded sympathetically, some of them only in an attempt to veil the curiosity on their faces. Other requests flowed in. Injuries, illnesses, safe travels, wants. The occasional "praise report".

Pippin raised his hand. "I should like to be taller than Merry if you don't mind, sir," he said, addressing Mr. DuLang, whom he thought must be one of the Valar of this world, since he evidently had such powerful wish-granting abilities.

Mr. DuLang looked startled. "Well, you'll have to take it up with God, not me."

"Keep dreaming, Pip," whispered Merry. "I'll always be taller than you."

"Aren't you God?" asked Pippin, ignoring Merry. "Or at least, one of them?"

A few gasps were heard, as were a few giggles.

"No indeed," answered Mr. DuLang. There is just one, and I am His humble servant."

"So are you one of the Maia, then? Do you have any other powers besides wish-granting?"

A few of the people sitting next to Mr. DuLang thought they heard him sigh and mumble something about not getting paid enough for this.

"I do not possess any wish-granting powers. I am merely a human being. If you wish to be taller than your friend, you may ask God, but I do not believe he honors such vain requests. Now, does anyone else have any _serious_ prayer requests?" The room was silent for some seconds. "Okay, then, let us all hold hands. I will open and close. We will begin with Juanita next to me, and go around the circle. If you wish not to pray, just squeeze the hand of the person next to you."

Purple Hair Girl, at least, was happy with this arrangement. The Fellowship members present all wisely decided to pass, although Gimli was a bit overly energetic with the hand-squeezing, causing the boy next to him to yelp.

When Mr. DuLang had closed with an even more long-winded prayer than his opener, about half of the people in the room rose in a body and moved toward the gym, stopping by Mr. DuLang's podium to retrieve their magical cell phones and talking energetically about a variety of topics, Mr. DuLang's fine message unfortunately not being one of them. Merry, Pippin, and Aragorn heard a few snippets about food, so they rose and quickly followed the crowd out. The two Hobbits, always up for adventuring or snacking, were hoping to engage in both by finding out what sorts of things people ate in this world. Aragorn was just hoping to find some coffee.

They were not disappointed. Once they had made it to the little kitchen, which was crammed full of boisterous youngsters, Pippin watched as cupboards were opened, and out of these were taken bags made of an unfamiliar, shiny material that made crackling noises when it moved. Merry was paying more attention to a big, white cupboard that made an interesting humming noise, and out of which were taken several intriguing-looking, large, flat, circular things, which were then put inside what looked to be this world's version of an oven. Soon an indescribably delicious, almost magical smell began to fill the room.

Aragorn had been watching a group of people in one of the corners, who had congregated around a silver machine that made a rumbly noise. He had an instinctive feeling about that machine, and almost without knowing it, he began to slowly thread through the little cliques of people talking and eating, and make his way toward the machine. When he was nearly there, he saw a young man take a flimsy-looking white cup from a stack on the counter and position it under a little spout at the end of the machine. Out of this spout and into the cup trickled a rich, brown, steaming liquid. "Oh, thank you, Eru," whispered Aragorn.

Meanwhile, back in the youth room, Legolas and Gimli were both making new acquaintances.

Legolas had bonded with Mr. DuLang, who seemed to be the only person there who knew what it was to be valued only for one's appearance and not for one's mind. (Each flattered himself that he had a quite exceptional body _and_ mind.) They tried to talk of other things, and although it was true that they misunderstood one another a lot, being from two different worlds, you'd be amazed at the number of things they found to talk about. A little like our friends, Prudence and Frodo, who were still with the fish. But we'll return to them in a moment.

Gimli, recently bereft of his helmet, had had a rather embarrassing case of helmet hair until two very young girls (they had been the backup singers onstage earlier) had shyly approached him and asked if they might help him re-braid it. One of them (Rilla), it turned out, was interested in becoming a hairdresser as a profession, and when she had seen all that long, thick hair, red just like hers, she had had a strong wish to practice her French- and fishtail-braiding skills. However, she had felt intimidated by Gimli's gruff exterior, and really it was a very odd request; she couldn't just go up to a stranger and ask to braid his hair. But it seemed that her best friend Suki could.

At first Gimli just stared up at them, while Suki's face began to lose some of its color and Rilla's face gained it. Then Gimli's face broke into a wide grin. "Why of course you can, lassies! Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to braid me own hair? The beard is difficult enough, but I can't tell you how long it takes me to get a decent braid, reaching back there over my shoulders until my arms feel likely to break off! It would be my pleasure to have my hair braided by a professional braider."

Rilla gulped. "I'm not professional. I mean yet. I mean, I want to be someday, but"—

"Well, then you need practice now, don't you?" interrupted Gimli. He had already started unbraiding his hair.

At first both girls felt a little reserved, but this soon melted away, and before they knew it they were all talking together like old friends as Rilla worked away and Suki watched and occasionally offered help or advice. (She had an excellent eye.) They had a lot of things to talk about, believe it or not, such as the best kinds of food to eat at Yule (people called it Christmas here) and caves (both girls had been spelunking several times and had enjoyed the experiences immensely) and the pretty ring Rilla wore on her left hand.

"Does it do anything?" asked Gimli of the ring.

"It's a Purity Ring," she answered.

"Ah," said Gimli gravely, before pausing and asking, "And what might that be?"

Rilla was silent and looked so embarrassed that Gimli didn't ask her any more about it, supposing that it must be a very mysterious and powerful ring indeed.

Let's return to the kitchen now, where the pizzas had just come out of the oven and Merry was about to have one of the most magical experiences of his life. Pippin had been sampling the smorgasbord of chips, candy, and soda spread out on the table (at first he had to stand on his tiptoes and reach up to get them, but eventually a young man saw his struggle and got him a stool) and had decided that they were all indescribably delicious. He had just got a cup of tea and flavored it with a generous helping of blue powder from a Pixy Stick while snacking on a clementine which he had frosted with a swirl of spray cheese.

"Merry! Come try this. It's amazing!" he called across the room. Merry was too focused on the pizza to listen to his friend, but Sam, who had just come into the kitchen, tried some. He was not so enthusiastic about that particular flavor combination, but the sour cream and onion potato chips that he tried next quite agreed with him, and he ended up finishing off the whole bag and then starting in on a bag of spicy Cheetos.

Prudence and Frodo were still in the kitchen, in a quiet little corner with Lady Katy the Platy and her many offspring. She had, as far as they could tell, stopped giving birth, and was now residing by herself in Gimli's helmet. They were enjoying themselves too, in their own quiet way. They watched the fish and the cacophony surrounding them, sometimes in silence and sometimes in conversation that was becoming less stilted and easier as time went on: "So wait, you eat seven meals a day?"

"Well, when we can get them."

"And you never wear shoes?"

"Never."

"That sounds like an absolute dream. Except in the winter. Don't your feet get cold in the winter? And what about when it rains?"

Frodo laughed.

Gandalf had been wandering about, droppin' eaves on conversations and unintentionally intimidating people without realizing it. Now he had made his way to the kitchen as well, and was sampling a plate of biscuits. The well-dressed young man was watching him closely, and after a few moments he spoke to Gandalf. "You don't like those?"

Gandalf coughed a few times and cleared his throat before answering. "They are rather dry," he commented.

"Impossible. They are _made_ out of _Bis_ quick," he said, emphasizing the first syllable.

"Whatever they are made of, they are still dry."

"Well, I don't like your hat. What is that, a stinking beret?" (The hat which Gandalf carried in his hand was the same shape as his old one, but white to match his new look. It looked nothing like a beret, but this fact is somewhat irrelevant, given that Gandalf didn't know what a beret was to begin with.)

"One would think a wizard would get more respect, even in uncivilized places such as this."

The young man's eyes grew wide, and he gasped. He stared at Gandalf for a few moments, as if trying to process this new information, and then said, "A wizard? Really? That's cooler than a bih-usk named Bilbo!"

"A what?"

"Bih-usk."

"What?"

"BISQUE!"

Frodo, who was nearby, hadn't been paying attention to their conversation, but when he'd heard his uncle's name, his head snapped up and his eyes shone. He took advantage of this momentary pause in the conversation to address the young man. "Did you say 'Bilbo'? Are you acquainted with my uncle?"

The young man did not look happy to be interrupted in the midst of his discovery. "What does your uncle have to do with anything?"

"I thought you mentioned the name Bilbo."

"I did, but I didn't say anything about anyone's uncle. Bilbo was the name of my bih-usk."

"Well, Bilbo is the name of my uncle! Are you perhaps acquainted with him?"

"What kind of person names their uncle Bilbo? Anyway, as you were saying, Mr. Wizard, sir…."

Gandalf was unable to get away from the well-dressed young man and his many questions, and his endless conversational dominations involving bisque (and occasionally hibiscuses) for the rest of the evening. And Frodo was forever haunted by the mystery of the lobster soup with the same name as his uncle.

Legolas and Mr. DuLang had drifted out to the gym by this point (no one was playing dodgeball yet) and had still been enjoying their conversation until Mr. DuLang excused himself for a moment to use the restroom. Purple Hair Girl saw her chance and took it.

"Hello there," she purred in a voice that was meant to be seductive. "What's your name?"

"My name is Legolas," he answered simply and looked away as if distracted. He was trying to get rid of her, but did not wish to be rude.

She looked at him expectantly and waited. Eventually his eyes drifted back to her face and he caught the look and understood it. He suppressed a sigh. "And what is your name?"

"Organic. My parents are freaks." She rolled her eyes. "But _you_ can call me Annie," she said, touching his arm and smiling coyly. Her boyfriend was nearby, and she wanted him to see this. In fact he was beginning to walk right over to where they were standing. What else could she do to make him jealous?

"Can I get your number?" she asked Legolas, rather louder than was necessary. Before he could answer, she was pulling a scrap of paper from her pocket and muttering about how her stupid phone was dead, so he'd have to write it down on the paper instead. "Okay, your name is Lego Loss," she muttered, writing down the name.

Legolas never got a chance to ask Organic what she meant by phones and numbers, because all of a sudden there was a deafening boom, a flash of blinding orange light, and a ferocious roar. And then he lost consciousness.

 

A little more _Studio C_ in this chapter, throughout Gandalf's conversation with the well-dressed young man.


	8. Lego Loss

**Chapter Eight: Lego Loss**

Everyone in the kitchen rushed out to the gym to find out what was going on, but the sight that met their eyes made many of them rush back in again in terror.

"Get behind me, Annie," said Organic's boyfriend.

"No way," said Organic, though her voice shook. "I'm way too much of a feminist for that. And also I'm still mad at you."

"Let us prepare to fight," said Aragorn, drawing his sword.

"Let me at it," growled an elaborately braided and styled Gimli, wielding his axe fearlessly.

" _MELLON_!" bellowed Pippin nonsensically.

"Not again," whispered Gandalf, locking eyes with the creature facing them. It looked back with empty, cruel eyes wreathed in fire. It was a Balrog. Very, very small for a Balrog, but still undeniably a Balrog.

Merry then blew his Rohan horn, and everyone jumped about a foot in the air and stumbled around, yelling about how they couldn't hear anymore.

Prudence, still holding the fishbowl, bravely charged toward the creature and emptied the fishbowl's contents on it, in a futile attempt to put out the flames, and the poor baby platies all hopped around like grasshoppers on the wooden floor, and on Legolas.

Then the outside door opened with a bang, and in stepped…a tall Hobbit?

"I'm _BAAA-AAACK_!" He sing-songed, grinning widely.

No, definitely not a Hobbit, though he was dressed a little like one. He was barefoot with short pants and a green cloak, and he had a golden chain with a ring strung through it around his neck, like the one Frodo had worn on his quest. However, the hair on his feet was only drawn on, and his pointed ears were obviously false. The hair on his abnormally large head was all wrong, a messy dirty blonde mop, and he wore a red and gray striped shirt and big, black glasses. He carried what looked like a half-eaten grilled cheese sandwich in his hand.

The cloak billowed out behind him like a cape as he took in the scene across from him. "Does somebody need my assistance?" he asked eagerly, a slight lisp in his voice. "I've read enough fanfiction to know how to deal with this, my friends!"

With that he ran past the Balrog and into the kitchen, where a lot of people with ashen faces were huddled. "Where's the bacon?" he asked authoritatively.

A few people confusedly pointed to the far end of the table, where, sure enough, a plate of delicious-looking, greasy bacon strips sat. He took the plate and brought it back out to the gym, as many pairs of frightened but curious eyes watched. He seemed to have no fear as he approached the Balrog.

"Hey there, little guy," he cooed, as if he were talking to a baby or a small dog. "Look what I have for you, mmm, some tasty bacon." He dangled one of the strips in the air, while the Balrog watched with rapt attention. "Now, fetch!" He threw the strip of bacon across the room, and sure enough the monster lumbered after it.

Immediately Prudence, who was feeling truly horrible about her role in the plight of the baby platies, kneeled and began scooping up the tiny, flopping fish and putting them back in the bowl, even though it was almost entirely empty of water. Frodo saw what she was doing and rushed back to the kitchen, quickly filled a Styrofoam cup full of water, and brought it back to dump into the fishbowl. Prudence looked up at him with grateful eyes. He got another cup of water to dump on Legolas, who did not look up at him with grateful eyes.

Meanwhile, the bizarre game of fetch continued, and a few people crept cautiously out of the kitchen to watch. The monster was beginning to look less and less frightening as they watched, and every time it fetched and ate a piece of the bacon, it almost seemed to grin, and it even wagged its tail. When all the bacon was gone, it galumphed loyally to Big Head Kid's side and licked his face. In return, Big Head Kid stood on tiptoe and patted its head. The Balrog practically beamed, and made a sort of contented growling noise.

He turned to the awed spectators. "Bacon is the secret to taming miniBalrogs. Duh. If you don't want any more of them, I would _suggest_ paying more attention to your spelling." It was then that he noticed the members of the Fellowship watching him, and gasped. "You have the most amazingest costumes I've ever seen! Where did you get them?"

Sam was a little indignant. "These here aren't costumes, they're our real clothes!"

Big Head Kid grinned. "Wow, way to stay in character!" He turned to the rest of the group. "So I know you're all _dying_ to hear about our trip to New Zealand."

Truthfully, no one cared, but they were all so grateful to him for saving them from the monster that they would have happily listened to him read the phone book. So everyone gathered around him and the miniBalrog (who answered to "Lego Loss," which was a little confusing as it sounded the same as "Legolas"; really it had taken quite a liking to Legolas, seeming to prefer him second only to Big Head Kid, whom it seemed Lego Loss had imprinted upon in much the same way a baby duck would). Big Head Kid had just gotten out the church's old slide projector and a bed sheet, and was showing pictures he'd taken in New Zealand of a trip in a canoe (he never did say whether it was wooden or aluminum) on a river winding through a pasture full of cebú, or maybe they were water buffalo,* when Mr. DuLang finally made it out of the bathroom (he'd been fixing his hair).

"Alright, youths," he boomed authoritatively. "It's nine o'clock, time to pack up and go home." He didn't see Lego Loss until he'd finished speaking. His face froze and he stared at the creature in wonderment which slowly turned to horror the longer he looked. Well, this was it. He'd finally cracked from the pressure, and now he was seeing things. Best to just act normal, then maybe the horrifying hallucination would go away. With some effort, he arranged his face into what he hoped was a calm, neutral expression. "You heard me," he said in a much quieter, slightly hoarse voice.

"But Mr. Du _Laa_ -aang," whined Big Head Kid, "I haven't finished my stereophonic multimedia event** yet!"

Mr. DuLang heaved his longest sigh of the evening yet. "Boy, that is a slide projector and a bed sheet. You and the rest of the group can tell us all about your trip next week." He was beginning to recover himself now. "I mean it, time to go!" he shouted to everyone.

The kids were usually never eager to leave youth group when it ended, and this time some of them were especially reluctant.

"Goodbye, Rilla, Lady of the Mysterious and Powerful Purity Ring," said Gimli. "And goodbye Suki, Lady of Excessively Good Taste," he finished solemnly.

"Goodbye, Uncle Gimli," said the girls.

"It was a pleasure to meet you sir," said Legolas to Mr. DuLang.

"Likewise," responded the gentleman. He held his hand out for a handshake, but seeing that Legolas just looked down at his hand uncertainly, he curled it into a fist and punched Legolas in his perfect face. (Psych! Mr. DuLang would never do that, but I bet I fooled you for a second there, didn't I, Reader? Haha. Okay, sorry. It was very immature of me. On with the story, in which Mr. DuLang does _not_ punch poor Legolas who has already been unconscious once in this story [well, twice if one counts Mr. DuLang's sermon], but instead gives him an awkward fist bump.)

"Goodbye, _Josephine_ ," said Frodo to Prudence. He was smiling, but Prudence thought his eyes looked a little sad. She was unused to feeling connections to people, to feeling regret when a conversation had to end. She didn't know how to deal with such feelings as these, now that she was actually experiencing them.

"Will I see you next week?" she asked hesitantly.

"I don't know," Frodo admitted.

Prudence tried to keep her expression neutral, even though the words hurt a little. Silly of her to ask, really. She knew he didn't live here. "You're on your way back to Middle-earth, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes, I think so."

"It must be very far away from here," she mused.

"Not as far as you might think," Frodo replied.

"Really? Goodness, my knowledge of chem—I mean, _geography_ , must be atrocious. It never was my favorite subject, but…" Prudence trailed off.

"I wanted to tell you that I thought you were very brave today, charging at the Balrog like that."

Prudence's cheeks turned rosy. "Thank you. I was unbelievably afraid, but I felt like I had to do something, and that was all I could think of. But it made me feel heartless. I'm so relieved that the platies are alright after all."

"Heartless is certainly not a word I would use to describe you," Frodo said thoughtfully.

"What word would you use?" Prudence blurted out. She immediately wished she'd said something else, anything else. It made it sound exactly like she was fishing for compliments, which had not been her intention.

Frodo thought about it for a moment. "Well, besides brave, I would say that you are kind and gentle. Also quite funny. And a little…beautiful."

Prudence felt like she wanted to die. In the best way one can possibly feel like one wants to die.

Suddenly there was Gandalf (with a hibiscus in his hat) and Aragorn (who was dipping a now headless gingerbread man in another cup of coffee) and the other Hobbits (whose pockets looked suspiciously full). It was time.

"Goodbye, Prudence," said Frodo. "It was lovely getting to know you."

Pippin tittered a little at this, but Sam silenced him with a quick elbow jab.

"Thank you, Frodo. It was lovely getting to know you too. I hope you come back sometime soon; then I can introduce you to my friend the dragon." She saw the expressions of horror on the non-Frodo faces of the Fellowship. "Oh, sorry, sorry, that was a little inside joke! I don't actually know any dragons, don't worry."

Frodo grinned and held out his hand. Prudence took it, expecting that he was going to show off how well he had picked up one of the standard greetings of her culture, but instead he shyly raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. He smiled at her one last time, and then turned to leave with his friends, who were very considerately trying not to make their shock and amusement overly obvious.

"Oh, wait a second, I just thought of something!"

 

When the Fellowship finally made it outside, each member carrying a small water-filled plastic bag with a tiny fish inside. It was dark, but they could see Big Head Kid and Lego Loss in a circle of light emanating from the miniBalrog. Big Head Kid was leading him on a leash to a truck parked by the sidewalk. "In you go, buddy," he said, patting the bed of the truck invitingly. "I can't wait to show you to Jordan!" In jumped the miniBalrog. Big Head Kid jumped into the driver's seat, and then away he drove with his new pet.

Across the street, illuminated by a streetlight, Organic and her boyfriend were standing by the car they'd arrived in, engaged in another heated makeout session. "It looks like they made up again," Legolas commented. An old woman in a muumuu hobbled by on the Fellowship's side of the street, looking across at the young couple. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Teenagers," she muttered.

"Well, that was an adventure," said Pippin as he took another bite of pizza and stepped back into Middle-earth.

 

* from the VeggieTales movie, _Josh and the Big Wall_

_**_ also from the VeggieTales movie, _Josh and the Big Wall_

The misspelled-name-turning-into-a-miniBalrog idea was not mine; it's a reference to the hilarious fanfic, "The Official Fanfiction University of Middleearth" by misscam.

Big Head Kid is also not mine; he is a character from Josh, Jordan, and Kelli Taylor's awesome YouTube channel, Blimey Cow.


	9. Cheesy Bonus Epilogue for the Frodence Shippers

**Chapter Nine: Cheesy Bonus Epilogue for the Frodence Shippers**

_Tiro! Él eria e môr._

_I 'lîr en êl luítha 'uren._

_Ai! Aníron._

The lovely, soothing voice of Enya floated softly from Prudence's iPod, playing one of her favorite songs. She was breathing the music in, lounging in a blanket on the couch in her living room with a cup of peppermint tea, while the snow fell gently outside and a nice cozy fire crackled inside in the fireplace. Winter had always been her favorite season, and this was her favorite kind of day. Her brother was off at college, and her parents were out on a day-long date for their anniversary. She had the house to herself.

Prudence's peace was shattered when she heard a knock at the front door and her St. Bernard, Quincy, galumphed to the door and started barking. Grumbling under her breath, Prudence got up to answer it. It was probably UPS, or something.

It wasn't UPS. Prudence was sure she was dreaming, or hallucinating. "What are you doing here?" she gasped out.

"I flattered myself you'd be a little happier to see me than that," said Frodo.

"Are you real?"

Frodo looked up at her with a confused grin on his face. "I _think_ so."

"But what are you doing _here_?" she repeated.

"Would you like me to leave?" he asked, looking a little stung.

"No, of course not. I'm sorry. Please come in. I just…why aren't you in the Undying Lands?"

"What?"

"I thought you went there, because the book says you went there, but you clearly didn't, because you're here. How did you even get here the first time?"

"I haven't gone there. Yet. But what book are you talking about?"

Prudence laughed. "I don't know what is happening right now, but it is kind of bizarre. Why don't you come inside and we can discuss this over tea," she said, still looking dazed.

Frodo looked apprehensively at Quincy.

"Oh, I forgot. You're afraid of dogs. I can put him outside, if that would make you feel more comfortable."

Frodo hesitantly reached out and put his hand in front of Quincy's nose. Quincy sniffed, wagged his tail friendlily, and licked Frodo's hand. Frodo grinned and patted him on the head. "This one doesn't seem too vicious; I think I'll be alright." He stepped inside and took in the snug little living room. "This looks cheerful," he commented.

"Thank you," Prudence said simply. She was starting to feel bashful again. She led the way to the little kitchen and put the kettle on, and then bustled around getting the teacups and sugar cubes and things.

"You said you read about me going to the Undying Lands in a book…?" Frodo asked, still petting Quincy, who had followed him.

"Yes. It's an amazing book, I've already read it twice, and there's another one about your uncle, and another about the history of the Elves," Prudence babbled.

Now Frodo was looking dazed. "Do you have these books with you?"

"Yes, I'll go get them for you." Prudence paused and took in his expression. "You look like you need to sit down," she said with concern. "Here." She pulled out a kitchen chair for him and he sat down. Without thinking, she reached out and rubbed his shoulder in a comforting gesture. He looked up at her in surprise and she dropped her hand. "Right. The books," she said and left the room.

She came back with a stack of them, which she set on the table. She took the biggest one from the top and set it down in front of him. "It's called _The Lord of the Rings_ ," she said.

"By J.R.R. Tolkien," Frodo muttered. "I've never heard of him." He opened the book and began to flip through it. The minutes passed, and to give him space, Prudence busied herself with pouring the tea and cleaning the cluttered kitchen.

"I don't understand," said Frodo after awhile. "He knows everything that happened to us, and even some things that haven't yet, but he's not from my world, he's from yours…."

"I don't understand it either. He must be magical," said Prudence, shrugging her shoulders.

Frodo smiled and shook his head. It was beyond him. "I suppose so."

They were silent for a few minutes, then Prudence spoke. "How did you come here?"

"I'm not sure you'll believe me."

"Try me."

"Saruman had a wardrobe in Orthanc. It seems to be a portal to this world."

"No way! That's just like what happened in Narnia!"

"Narnia?"

"Sorry. It's another book."

"The funniest thing about it was that no time at all had passed in my world when we got back through…. I had a much more difficult time trying to get through the second time. It seems one can only get through the wardrobe if one does it accidentally. I had to hang up my clothes in it, to give myself a different excuse to use it.

"You don't say," said Prudence, grinning. "Hey, would you like to adjourn to the living room? It's warmer and more comfortable."

"Yes, that would be lovely," said Frodo, grabbing his teacup.

"How are you doing?" Prudence asked as they walked to the living room.

"I'm alright. This isn't the first time I've been surprised."

They stopped under the doorframe. Prudence looked into Frodo's face to see if he was telling the truth. He was staring back, and his expression was…Prudence didn't have a word for it, but it did strange things to her stomach. Her heartbeat sped up. She looked up for a second, and suddenly she felt a burst of courage. They were standing under a sprig of mistletoe. What a coincidence. "Not the last time you've been surprised either," she said. She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

For a moment, Frodo was speechless. "What was that for?"

"I'm really glad you came to see me…. How long do you think you'll stay?"

"It depends on how long you'd like me to stay."

"But what about the Undying Lands?"

"They can wait a little."

Prudence smiled and whispered, "Really?"

"Really." Frodo paused. "You know, we have mistletoe where I live too. Only we do it just a little differently..." He stood on his tiptoes, but he couldn't quite reach.

Prudence was so simultaneously ecstatic and terrified that she was almost hysterical. "Would you like me to find you a box?" she giggled.

Frodo rolled his eyes. "Of all the times to make fun of our height difference."

"I'm sorry. Did I ruin the moment?"

He set his teacup on a nearby side table and then put his hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her backwards. The living room was lower than the kitchen, and there was a step in the doorway. Prudence understood, and stepped down so that she was nearly on his level.

"That's better," he murmured. Then, slowly, gently, sweetly, he kissed her.

 

If you actually made it to the end of this, I love you.


End file.
